Farragut wrote, the next day: “* * * Captain Bell went last night to cut the chain across the river. I never felt such anxiety in my life, as I did until his return. One of his vessels got on shore, and I was fearful she would be captured. They kept up a tremendous fire on him; but Porter diverted their fire with a heavy cannonade. * * * * Bell would have burned the hulks, but the illumination would have given the enemy a chance to destroy his gunboat, which got aground. However, the chain was divided, and it gives us space enough to go through. I was as glad to see Bell, on his return, as if he had been my boy. I was up all night, and could not sleep until he got back to the ship.”
Farragut had determined to run by the forts at the end of five days’ bombardment; but he was detained for twenty-four hours by the necessity of repairing damages to two of his vessels. At first he had determined to lead, in the Hartford, but was dissuaded from that, and appointed Captain Bailey, whose ship, the Colorado, drew too much water to get up, to lead the column, in the gun-boat Cayuga, Lieutenant Commanding N. B. Harrison.
Long before this—on the 6th of April—Farragut had himself reconnoitred the forts, by daylight, going up in the gun-boat Kennebec in whose cross-trees he sat, glass in hand, until the gunners in the fort began to get his range.
On the night of the passage, April 23-24, the moon would rise about half-past three in the morning, and the fleet was ordered to be ready to start about two.
In this, as in most other important operations during the war, the enemy were mysteriously apprised of what was to be done.
At sunset there was a light southerly breeze, and a haze upon the water. Caldwell was sent up, in the Itasca, to see if the passage made in the obstructions was still open. At eleven at night he signalled that it was, and just at that time the enemy opened fire upon him, sent down burning rafts, and lighted immense piles of wood which they had prepared on shore, near the ends of the chain.
Soon after midnight the hammocks of the fleet were quietly stowed, and the ships cleared for action.
At five minutes before two, two ordinary red lights were shown at the peak of the flag-ship, the signal to get under way, but it was half-past three before all was ready. This was the time for the moon to rise, but that made little difference, with the light of the blazing rafts and bonfires.
The mortar-boats and the sailing sloop Portsmouth moved further up stream, to engage the water battery, as the ships were going by. This they promptly did, and then Captain Bailey led off, with his division of eight vessels, whose objective point was Fort St. Philip. All of these passed safely through the opening in the cable.
The forts opened on them promptly, but in five minutes they had reached St. Philip, and were pouring grape and canister into that work.